Velvet Magician
by Drowned Ophelia
Summary: A new guest to Velvet Room means another new attendant, although this one is in dire need of an attitude adjustment. With no choice their latest visitor will have to learn to deal with him as well as rescue her town. She's no stranger to being a part of odd incidents, but it's the first time she has the power to do anything about it.


When you lived in a place where time is meaningless it's easy to lose track of just how much had passed. Was is months? Years? Perhaps a decade? There's no way it could possibly be a century already.

Beaufort sighed and stretched before leaning back in his chair; finally he'd gotten far enough away to escape the sound of Belladonna's singing. All he knew for certain is that he had existed for a long time here without doing much. Sure there were a few others around for company, but they were rather strange and not exactly the type whose company he enjoyed. Or rather… He didn't seem to be all that sociable in the first place? Either way he often found himself trying ease his boredom on his own with limited options. There were tons of books around, the majority being on history or information on the vast array of Personas and arcana types. Reading those was more like studying rather than for enjoyment.

He'd gotten in trouble repeatedly for using the tarot cards to make houses or other structures. Eventually Igor had remedied this by giving Beaufort a deck of regular cards to play with.

Only a few times had Beaufort convinced the other residents to play a game of Poker with him. After they'd finally caught on how to play Elizabeth spotted him cheating and administered a punishment of Indian burns to each arm. He stuck to single player games like Solitaire after that; he still clearly remembered the awful pains.

It was frustrating to wake up one day garbed all in blue and be told he was there for a purpose but not exactly what or how on earth he'd gotten there. He had no memories of anything before then, an item he happened to find in his pocket being the only possession he had on him. It was nothing he had use for, and no one could or would tell him why he wound up with it, but he'd made sure to hold onto it. Frequently he'd take it out and just stare at it, turning it around in his hand, wondering if one day its purpose would suddenly make itself clear.

All he'd done is wait, wait, wait after he'd been taught how to perform his duties when the time came. It didn't seem fair to see so many others called into service and still nothing for him.

A journey and purpose of his own was the promise if he performed well. Then he could take off like Elizabeth did, only he wouldn't bother coming back to visit. Sometimes when she returned Margaret would join her in bullying Theodore; at least that was entertaining when it happened.

He gazed into a reflective surface on the side, touched his white hair, and frowned at his yellow eyes. Seemed like it was the norm now for most dwellers in this place to possess such features but they always felt out of place to him. The other option seemed to be blond, so maybe he got lucky; that color wouldn't suit him one bit. It would be nice if he found the opportunity to get some hair dye. Brown or black would be much better.

It was true that here he had no cares and no worries, unlike the world those they aided came from, but a little excitement would be nice. He tried to sneak over there once, the ever vigilant Margaret catching him by the ear just in time and bringing him back with him hollering the entire way she was going to pull it off from yanking so hard.

He couldn't help pouting at his misfortune. Seemed like everyone except him had gotten to experience that place at least once. He ought to have a turn. If someone as clueless as Theodore could survive a jaunt or two out there it should be walk in the park for him.

It was funny that he was so impatient for his so called "destined day" to come around, but then he still groaned when it finally did, taking his time to respond to the summon. Theodore congratulated him and wished him luck, Beaufort just making a less than enthused grunt in response.

Now he'd get to spend who knows how long next to the old man. Hopefully he'd at least get to sit; standing there the whole time would really be a drag. If he remembered right sometimes these "guests" they received sure took their sweet time until finally the Velvet Room's services were no longer required. Maybe he'd get lucky and the person would end up dying early on; that wouldn't be his fault and it would still count, right?

At last he reached the place that may as well be his new home for who knew how long. He was less than impressed, scowling.

"…You've got to be kidding…"

Beaufort knew that each Velvet Room was different and unique for each guest, the only similarity being a trend of them being a place that was moving I some way. He'd been thinking about what sort of contraption he'd wind up in, a large Ferris wheel carriage being the last thing that he'd expected. He realized it could have been worse, it could have been a fast ride. Beaufort snickered at the idea of Igor trying to keep his composure and fuse Personas on a roller coaster. Then again, he himself would probably wind up vomiting over the side. Not that he needed to eat, but being able to treat himself to anything he liked without the consequence of gaining weight was always a plus. It also helped he wasn't stupid enough to eat anything he was given like Theodore. Just how many different brands of pet food were there that his sisters could keep tricking him?

The door to the bottom carriage swung open and Beaufort entered, grateful there was a fair amount of room between him and Igor. As he sat down and eyed the gaudy interior he couldn't help wondering why the color blue was so favored. He much preferred red, or maybe even green, but the "Red Room" did sound awful intimidating while the "Green Room" gave off the impression there would be plants inside.

This really was going to be a pain in the ass. At the rare times when he did feel like having a conversation there was always another resident to talk to, even that bratty teen with horrible fashion sense who wouldn't go away, but Igor tended to be rather quiet unless a guest was around.

It only took a moment more for that "special" guest that Beaufort was meant to aide arrived. He gave her a quick glance and went right to staring out the window as the Ferris wheel began to turn; the sights out there were much more interesting. The girl who'd entered was just a teenager; a scrawny one at that. She had long brown hair with bows, brown eyes, was wearing what was probably a school uniform, and looked liked she could be knocked over with a feather. No way was this girl going to last long. Was she even strong enough to wield any useful weapons?

On and on Igor gave his usual "This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter." spiel to fill in the newcomer about what was going on. "Contract" this "responsibility" that. Blahblahblah. Just get on with it already. The visitors never did anything but listen and get somewhat confused the first time around.

Beaufort dug in his ear with his pinky, which was when he noticed the girl staring at him. What? Did he have something on his face? Maybe his uniform? That was always a possibility. Or maybe she was just too creeped out by Igor to keep eye contact with him. That unnaturally long nose combined with his rather frightening appearance made Beaufort wonder if any visitor had tried to make a run for it before.

No matter what the reason was he wished she'd knock it off. Even when he turned his head back to look out the window he could still feel her eyes on him, sending a chill up his spine.

"Allow me to introduce my assistant, Beaufort," Igor made a slight hand motion towards him.

Silence. It wasn't uncommon for Beaufort to wind up daydreaming or completely zoning out when he was disinterested with what was going on around him, completely missing his cue.

Igor loudly cleared his throat. "Beaufort," he tried again. It really was a different experience to have an attendant this unprofessional. Marie had been one thing since she had been just someone they picked up along the way, but even the rather naive Theodore didn't miss a beat when it came to his job.

Gosh they were up high! There was so much Beaufort could see up here. Could the theme part he saw all around them just be an illusion? He kind of did want to try out more of the rides he saw around them later. Ugh… Did the ship one go upside down?

"Beaufort…" Igor was starting to lose his patience.

Please let those food stands at least be real! They had to have all sorts of things he'd never tried before. He could feel his mouth watering already.

"BEAUFORT!" Igor slammed his palm down on the table in front of him with all of his might, eyes bulging from his head.

"H-Huh?" Beaufort nearly jumped out of his seat. Making Igor get so huffy was a rare feat indeed. He looked from his master to the girl and then back again before he realized why the were looking at him so expectantly. "Oh! Right… Hi," he replied awkwardly. "I'm supposed to help you too, but try not to rely on me too much, alright?"

The girl kept it to herself that he didn't seem very dependable in the first place. "Your name is Beaufort?" she asked, wanting to make sure.

"Yeah. You didn't catch that? You'd better pay better attention because I hate explaining things twice."

"Hm…" A thoughtful look came over the girl's face but she said nothing more to him.

With the Velvet Room's key in hand, knowledge of what sort of services would be provided, and the promise she was welcome anytime, the girl finally left. Beaufort couldn't figure out exactly why, but he'd started to feel a bit uncomfortable from the moment she'd entered. What was the big deal about his name, anyway? Sure it was stuffy and old sounding, but-

 _Oh, shit…_ It suddenly occurred to Beaufort that he hadn't caught what her name was. Not that he cared, but he'd better learn it. Did he dare ask Igor after already flubbing just minutes ago…?

It suddenly dawned on him the Compendium that would now be practically glued to his hands had that answer and more. He set it on his lap and flipped it open to the desired page.

 _Nanako Dojima_ he read silently to himself.

He repeated her name quietly out loud this time, Igor discreetly watching him with interest.

Nope! Didn't ring a bell. And why would it? He'd always been in the Velvet Room with the same scenery, same people, for as long as he could remember. There was no reason for this nagging feeling to exist, but it bothered him. He thought about asking Igor, but he always liked to be vague or cryptic about these matters, never directly giving an answer. Beaufort hated how the old geezer always expected people to figure it out for themselves.

This kid had just better not be too dull. He'd heard some stories from his fellow dwellers about making their visitors go on fetch quests or do some complicated fusions to keep themselves amused. He sure as hell wasn't going to develop one of those silly "bonds" with her so he may well see if he could have any fun at all. He'd heard about special drinks called "alcohol"; those always sounded appealing. Maybe he could make her bring him a few of those.

He looked at her profile a bit more. Just turned seventeen, father was a well respected cop at the local police station, mother long ago deceased, very close with her cousin… He felt his eyelids droop. Was there anything interesting at all about her? There was something about her feeling like she was being ignored and left behind, but that sounded like just typical teenage angst.

Beaufort shut the book. Sleep was another thing dwellers like him didn't require, although this was a rare moment where he felt fatigued and would benefit from a nap. Every once in awhile he'd dream, but it was never anything he could remember upon waking. He only got inklings that maybe it was better that way.

Waking up to drool on his face wasn't unusual; he wiped that away as he stirred. It was that he could feel liquid coming from his eyes as well that was strange. Tears…? He was crying? That was a first.

Noticing movement out of the corner of his eye Beaufort saw that Igor was holding out a blue handkerchief for him.

"…Thanks." Beaufort grabbed it and gently dabbed at his eyes. "I'll bet you know why I did that and you won't tell me a damn thing." He had to at least try, even if the response would be predictable.

"It seems our guest may be stirring up some long forgotten feelings inside of you," Igor answered. "Even if it may not seem that way now it may be in your best interest to get to know her."

"That's all your giving me?"

Igor closed his eyes and hummed to himself, as if Beaufort wasn't even there.

Typical. His fellow attendants did talk about how their guests wound up being tied to their own destinies as well. He sure as hell wouldn't go running off on a pointless quest to save her like Elizabeth had tried with hers, but a conversation or two wouldn't hurt. With Igor back to clamming up Beaufort needed help escaping the nonstop boredom that plagued him more than ever before.


End file.
